Christian and the Gypsy Queen
by Diamonte-saber
Summary: Deep in mourning-A personal ad in the newspaper brings Christian new hope and more questions- Is satine the gypsy queen? please read- A breath of fresh air from the "Satine lives fics"
1. Broken Hearts mend with love

Christian and the Gypsy Queen  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any Moulin Rouge stuff including it's characters etc, they all belong to the person who owns them...obviously! THE POINT IS they don't belong to me and I'm not saying they belong to me, I'm just using them cos they're cool...yeah  
  
Anyway! This story is set right after the movie so you'll have no trouble following on!  
  
BROKEN CHAIR, BROKEN HEART  
  
Silent in tears, Christian reached his garret. One hour had past since her death, the memory of her limp body being carried away was still fresh in his mind. He was so scared and so angry and so alone. Once he entered his apartment and slammed the door shut he gave free reign to his emotions. He trashed the place. Nothing was safe he showed no mercy. The world span with chaos as he threw chairs, emptied drawers, ripped sheets and hurtled them all out the window. Screaming at the top of his lungs, all the hurt inside him vocalized. He drew a deep and mournful breath, emotionally and physically exhausted he sank to the floor. He lay there numb in a dreamless sleep until morning came.  
  
The sun rose the next day and morning drifted lazily by until noon came and Christian finally awoke. The winter sun warmed his face and for a moment he forgot all that had happened the night before. The feeling of contentment was healing his soul and he did something that he had never thought he would do again. He smiled. It was minutes before he realized he was on the floor and when he opened his eyes the memories flooded back to him. His heart sank a thousand miles south and he gulped down the choke in his throat. He lay there for an hour or two longer.  
  
A rattling on the door made him leave his dusty sanctuary. He opened the door to a young boy. The boy looked like the thousands of others who roamed the streets of Paris, homeless and orphaned, they often combined to form pick-pocketing gangs. His scruffy features made him quite endearing, and despite himself Christian looked down kindly on him.  
  
"Are you Mr. Christian James?" the boy asked in a confident voice.  
  
"Yes, yes I am" Christian answered, looking closer at the boy. Something about him was familiar. Could he be imagining it? Why he looked just like...Sa  
  
Samuel! Christians cousin, and good friend as a child! But enough about that let's get back to the story! (Lol even authors like to have their fun ()  
  
"Well then," said the boy, " this must be for you" he handed Christian the days newspaper. "But I don't have a subscription." Christian said puzzled. "Errr.This is a one time offer! Um all for the low, low price of three francs!" the boy smiled and held out his hand. Christian looked at him suspiciously; fully aware that the cost of the newspaper was only one franc, but he paid him all the same. After all Christian knew what it was to be poor. The boy smiled up at him and though the time for him to leave had past he stood there as if waiting for something.  
  
"Are you quite alright?" Christian asked him after a long pause. The boy beckoned him to draw closer. " I've got some information, I think'll be of value to you" he whispered.  
  
"Well, go on then," said Christian not particulerly interested, but he played along, anything that would distract him from his life was more then welcome at the moment. Then boy looked at him sideways and grinned.  
  
"It'll cost you," he said, watching him expectantly. Christian grumbled, and felt around in his pockets retrieving yet anther franc.  
  
"Okay," the boy whispered. " Page 25, left column, Saturday in Roman-E-a, spelt with an E." And with that he ran down the passageway at full speed, leaving Christian feeling bewildered and frankly a little cheated. Too tired to chase him down Christian retired into his garret once more, slumped down into a corner (the remainders of his only chair were strewn across the street below) and turned to page 25.  
  
It was a personal ad page. Similar to ones he used to read as a boy for fun, and prank-call lonely singletons as a joke (No! the Diamonte-saber has never done that!). He looked to the left column where highlighted in pink marker pen was a small ad, it read:  
  
Gypsy Queen  
  
Romania the light of delights, where dreams come true it's here for you, only one can come this way. Join me here on Saturday in RomanEa. Follow the boy... Love Always Scarlet Gypsy  
  
Christian studied the ad. What did that last sentence say? Follow the boy??? The boy!? Oh no! he was long gone! Christian rushed to the window, the boy was leaning up against the lamp-post down below whistling a tune...he knew that tune! It was Satine's sad song "fly away"! He ran out of the apartment grabbing what money and valuables he had. He hurtled down the stairs nearly stacking it but managing to keep his balance. He went out onto the street only to find that the boy had disapeared...!  
  
Could it be? Is Satine the ghost contacting our hero from beyond the grave? Or is this all just some cruel joke to send Christian further down the path of insanity??? Find out next week in: Christian and the Gypsy Queen part 2!  
  
A/N I know there are a lot of problems with this story, era-wise. I Do KNOW that it is not very likely that subscriptions, and prank-calls, and marker pens existed in that era, but no one said these things had to be historically correct! Hope y'all review now y'hear? 


	2. Follow the sound of my song

Christian halted, frantically searching for the boy. He'd lost him. How was he meant to follow... a sweet melody was heard across the wind, the boy was whistling the tune again! He hurtled down a nearby alley. Where was it coming from? He made himself slow down; his footsteps and the sound of his breathing were overpowering the music. He walked quickly now down the cobblestone streets; the illusive whistler always ahead of him meandered aimlessly along. Occasionally Christian, completely unaware of where the boy was leading him followed willingly, he was convinced that Satine was behind this. He was amused at how well the boy managed to stay out of sight. He must have had practice thought Christian, all this time on the streets it would be very useful to disappear when you feel like it...  
  
"HOW MUCH IS SHE PAYING YOU?" he shouted out not really expecting a reply. He heard the boy giggle he thought, well the whistling had been suspended for the moment so he stopped in the middle of the road.  
  
"AREN'T YOU BORED OF BEING CHASED YET?" he shouted,  
  
"WHERE ARE WE GOING ANYWAY?"  
  
Christian turned not sure where his little orphan friend was. People on the streets looked at him strangely, he blushed, embarrassed, he must have looked like a raving lunatic. He met their questioning looks with a nervous smile and turned away. There before him stood the boy, sniggering at his own cleverness. Christian ran up to him frightened that if he didn't the boy would take off again. The boy stood where he was grinning; he handed Christian a letter and disappeared. Christian was too puffed to chase after him again instead he called out "WHAT NO CHARGE THIS TIME? COS I"VE GOT 2 FRANCS HERE TO SPARE!" He thought it might tempt the boy into revealing more about all the letters and codes but he was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Panting Christian sat down at a nearby café and ordered an ice water. Once it arrived and he had quenched his thirst he concentrated on reading the letter still firmly clenched in his hand. The envelope opened easily with the help of a butter knife and Christian saw that the letter was written on faded old parchment. The meticulous handwriting danced across the page before his eyes and he began to read...  
  
Christian,  
  
You have been invited to The Gypsy Queen's birthday party, please accept this train ticket to Romania as a gift-but don't forget to bring one yourself! It would be an honor to see you there. The Gypsy Queen has heard great things about your work and would be delighted to hear about any up coming ideas you may have. You will find us in the Wilting Forest in the South of Romania Please arrive no later than the 12th of April.  
  
Yours sincerely Her Majesty the Gypsy Queen's Associate Ramon D'Argent  
  
Christian unfolded a second piece of paper to reveal a one way train ticket to Romania. Should he go? These gypsy folk were famed to be murderers and thieves but yet he cared neither for his life nor the few possessions that he owned so really he had nothing to lose. He took one last look at France and hopped onto the next train that arrived. 


	3. Satine or Gypsy Queen?

There he stood at the train station, alone and unaware of where to go or who to see. Though he was not frightened. Losing Satine had made him almost dead inside but there was a faint glimmer in him still holding on, still waiting, and still hoping that he would see her face once more. He had never been more determined about anything in his life. He WOULD find her...  
  
He would find her...  
  
The warm summer rain began to pelt down upon him. Romania smelt sweet. There was the smell of ripening tomatoes and fresh laundry in the air. The sky turned orange before night set in and Christian walked the streets hoping for a place to rest. He came across a small pub that that looked inviting. The sound of laughter was flowing out the open door and Christian decided that this was the place.  
  
He lingered in the doorway a little while his eyes grew accustomed to the light. "Come in! Come in!" a friendly looking man behind the bar said to him. "My name is Bernard". Bernard's accent was rich - exactly how he likes his cake- thought Christian, as Bernard was quite a plump man. He stood at about a foot shorter than Christian and looked up at him with bright smiling eyes. "Hello," Christian said, "I'm Christian". "Well welcome! Welcome Christian! Can I get you-ah anything to drink?" he said already emptying a bottle of beer into a glass. Christian at himself down at the bar and took a sip at his beer.  
  
The bar was full of talking, laughing people. It was like a time warp for Christian, once, not that long ago it seemed, he had been as carefree as them. He sorrowful expression must have caught Bernard's eye because he began to make conversation. "So, what brings you to Romania? I noticed your accent was foreign. What are you looking for? Work? Family? Love?" The last one struck a chord with Christian, "Yes...love, a lost love actually..."  
  
"Ahhh! Did she leave you, and now you are trying to win her back?"  
  
"No, she loved me. We loved each other...it's complicated"  
  
"Are you going anywhere? Why don't you tell me this complicated story of yours?"  
  
"Okay." Christian replied and then he began the story of his life. He told Bernard of how he had gone to Montmatre to become a writer...  
  
His story continued, late into the night and as he told of the Duke and the Moulin Rouge and Harold Zidler. The bar slowly emptied until just he and Bernard were left . When he came up to the part with the Gypsy Queen and how he had to journey to the Wilting Forest Bernard let out a gasp. "You know of the Gypsy Queen?" Bernard looked shocked.  
  
"Yes," answered Christian but what I find more amazing is that she knows of me. So does she really exist?"  
  
"Of course she exists! She's the only one them Gypsy folk'll listen too. I've never seen her myself, but she's fabled to be very beautiful and very wise."  
  
Christian was a bit disheartened by the fact that the Gypsy Queen really existed. He thought that maybe it was Satine trying to contact him without the Duke finding out. He thought he would find himself lost in a clearing deep in the forest and she would begin to sing her song and they would run away together like they had planned...Now there seemed to be little hope. But there was still the song...  
  
"Do you have anywhere to stay for tonight?" asked Bernard, "We have a few guest rooms upstairs and my wife makes a fantastic breakfast. Then in the morning I will give you directions on how to find the Wilting Forest"  
  
Christian's face smiled, "That'd be great" he said thankfully.  
  
As he carted his one bag up the stairs, he felt a warmth in his heart and an excitement in his belly. Tomorrow, he was going to see the Gypsy Queen and get Satine back.  
  
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Is this story too far from the original to work? I don't know I was just sick of reading the same old, same old story lines and decided to write something a little bit different. I hope you like it and regardless of what you think I'd like to hear it.  
  
~*~ All you need is love ~*~  
  
Love Diamonte-saber 


	4. The Wilting Forest

Chapter 4: The Wilting Forest  
  
The white morning light swept in through the transparent curtains, simple and clean. Christian, on the other hand, lay a mess tangled among his bed covers. He had hardly slept. His mind was overactive and wouldn't rest no matter how much his body begged for sleep. The smell of food from downstairs was his signal to get up. He moved slowly in a zombie-like state. Washing his face he barely glanced at his reflection in the mirror for fear of what it might show. He put on a fresh set of clothes. All this he did slowly and calmly but his actions did not speak for what he was experiencing in his head.  
  
Was he insane? Hadn't he seen Satine's cold limp body with his own eyes as she was carried away? What could this Gypsy Queen woman want from him if not to re-unite him with Satine? Or maybe she was Satine...There was only one way to find out and that was to go and see her in the forest today...today.  
  
He came down the stairs hurriedly. He feared that if he didn't leave soon he would over think the situation and chicken out. He kept his mind as blank as possible as he ate and was happy to hear he local news from Bernard. Of course the biggest news in town via the gossip chain was the Gypsy Queen's birthday party. It was rumored to be more spectacular than any event ever held in Romania. Christian felt butterflies in his stomach as Bernard talked about the extravagance the Queen went to, to throw a party in her own honor. The only other guests invited, apart from the gypsies themselves, were famous artists and musicians from around the world.  
  
"I'm telling you Christian even if you do not find that dame of yours it shall be a night to remember! You must come back here afterwards to tell me all about it oks? Do you promise?"  
  
Christian promised.  
  
He set out towards the forest. It would be a long walk Bernard had said and since he had no money for a carriage he was given a map and directions. Forty-five minutes later he found himself hopelessly lost. Directions were easy to come by, good directions were not. He felt like he was going in circles. He had stopped to ask for help several times and finally he made his way to the woods where he found a well-trodden path and decided to follow it.  
  
Deeper and deeper into the forest he went with no idea where he was going the path continued on and one tree began to look like the other.  
  
The air...  
  
was hot and sticky it made him feel...  
  
sleepy....  
  
He collapsed not far from a clearing, the emotional weight mixed with lack of sleep and the heat of the day had been too much and his body just shut down. The winds picked up and rustled through the leaves above him. Two gypsy boys came out from hiding. They were scruffy and tanned with bright little eyes and messy hair. They walked up to Christian and inspected his coat inside they found his invitation to the Queen's birthday party. One turned to the other and said, "This must be the one"  
  
What will happen? ( Are you a giraffe? Yes) sorry only ppl who watched that movie will know what I'm going on about 


	5. The Party: Enter The Gypsy Queen

The Party: Enter Gypsy Queen  
  
The air ran thick - thick and sweet with the scents of jasmine and ripe tropical fruits. The sky was aglow a bright rose pink as the sun dipped and the long summer twilight set in. The gypsies were stirring, awaking from their midday siestas. This was not an ordinary day. Slowly but surely the forest folk began their work in preparation for the night's event: The Birthday Party for the Gypsy Queen. Soon the forest trees were decorated with thousands of orange hanging lanterns and a great feast had been made. The ceremony was to be held in a large circular clearing where rustic oak tables stood in two parallel lines - music playing and dancing would occur in between, around and on top of these tables. Tonight hundreds of gypsies would make there way to the clearing as they did every year; their tents were already being set up among the trees surrounding the clearing. When the first star appeared in the sky the queen would arrive and the celebrations would begin.  
  
Christian was at the beach. He had only once been to the beach before as a child but that day was dreary and cold as most days were in England, today the sky was clear and bright. He could feel the white crystal sand under his feet. The water looked tempting. He rolled up his trouser leg and leapt to the water's edge but the water was going back out to sea. He went in further but the water went in further still. Puzzled he ran at full speed towards the gathering wave but it did not hit him, it shrank back away from him. The more he tried to reach the water the more it eluded him. The wave grew taller with every step he took towards it. He stood still and looked at it despairingly and he saw her. He saw her standing on top of the wave above him. "Come what may," she sang softly to him. His heart skipped a beat and he took a deep breath before he answered her in song "Cccc..." He couldn't sing he had lost his voice. He tried again "Ccccc..." he began to panic he looked frantically up at Satine. She shook her head sadly at him and began to cry. Her tears rained down on him they pelted him and stung his bare skin like acid. The wave moaned horrendously and he saw it begin to curve over him. He closed his eyes tightly and braced himself for his certain doom.  
  
"Sattiiiinnnnnneeeee!" he cried, as the water splashed him in the face. He sat up with a jolt his eyes were wide and his breathing heavy. A young boy with tanned skin and curly dark hair had been washing his face with a cloth. They appeared to be in a large tent. The boy looked shocked and dropped his cloth. He mumbled something that Christian could not understand and ran out of the tent. Christian was left sitting rigid unable to move, unable to comprehend where he could be. The dream was still fresh in his mind. Why couldn't he reach Satine? Why was she crying? She had looked so sorrowful, as if her heart was breaking when she saw him.  
  
A woman dressed in clothes of assorted, faded, tones entered the room confidently. She looked at him and shook her head while speaking to him bossily. He could not for the life of him figure out what she was saying. He squinted at her and listened more closely, as people often do when they are being instructed to do something in a language they don't understand. Thankfully she pointed to a small table where a set of clothes lay folded along side a pitcher of water and a small tin cup. As soon as she had left the room Christian pounced on the water pitcher. He was parched and drank till there was no more left to drink. Then he inspected the clothes he assumed that he was meant to wear. They were a light cotton-like material of the brown variety and he put them on partly because he wanted to get out of his sweaty, dirty set but mostly because he didn't want the mean lady to yell at him.  
  
Outside his tent he could hear a low buzz of noise, a mixture of people talking and insects chirping. He crept over to where both the boy and the bossy woman had made the exits and peered out. The night had just about set in.  
  
"Hello Christian" said an unfamiliar voice from behind him. Christian spun around and he let out a gasp. Before him stood a beautiful young woman with emerald eyes. She was exquisitely dressed in a soft green dress embroidered with green vines around the bodice. Similar vines sat in a garland atop her raven-black hair. She smiled warmly at him and Christian smiled dumbly back at her. Time passed and he came to his senses.  
  
"Um pardon me saying this but who are you and how do you know who I am?"  
  
"Oh Christian, I think you know exactly who I am! Don't you?" and she pulled out his crumpled invitation from behind her back.  
  
"The Gypsy Queen." he whispered, gazing at the invitation.  
  
"Correct, but that is the last time I want to hear you call me that. From now on you will call me by my first name: Haitia, Ok? Ok. And to answer your question about how I know you, well, you are quite renowned as a poet and I also have heard great things about you from a dear friend of mine...You will not mind if I call on you at dinner to improvise a poem will you?  
  
"No." said Christian, not paying attention," but who is this friend of yours who spoke kindly of me? And the song...the boy whistled. How do y..."  
  
"Don't mind that right now, we will have plenty of time to talk later" She came towards him and took his arm and linked it with her own. Dramatically she pushed aside the flap in the tent that served as a door to reveal a magical sight. Hundreds of gypsies all smiling, talking, dancing and singing were gathered in the lantern-lit clearing  
  
" The first star has appeared now in the sky, won't you escort me out? I thought you were a gentleman" She looked up at him with sparkling eyes. Christian cleared his throat, and stood up straighter.  
  
"Of coarse" he said  
  
The night was like a dream, Christian sat opposite Haiti at the dinner table and ate and drank himself silly. The food was good, the company equally so and it was not long before he was able to relax and have a good time. He was able, for the first time, to put his grief out of his mind and enjoy himself. Haitia did what she said she would do and called on him to perform a poem, which he did, without too much embarrassment and before long the music started to play. It was a rhythmic fast-paced tune the kind gypsies like best.  
  
Christian stayed in his seat, watching, and clapped merrily along. The dancers were funny and energetic, soon everyone was joining in. Christian spotted Haitia in the crowd. She looked over to him and he quickly looked away. Smiling, she slowly walked over, tapping him playfully on the shoulder she said, " Would you care to dance?"  
  
"With you"  
  
"Naturally"  
  
Christian didn't know what to do. Somehow he felt that dancing with Haitia would be like cheating on Satine.  
  
"I'd better not" he said "besides I'm not a great dancer anyway"  
  
"hmmmm that's not what I've heard" Haitia said wistfully " You must prove to me how bad a dancer you really are before you can refuse me, queen of allll the gypsies. Please, as my guest, I would like you to dance with me"  
  
"Ok" Christian said, she had really given him little choice but it was not a choice he regretted once he began to dance. Dancing was exhilerating - it was freedom. They danced until the early hours of the morning when most everyone was nodding off. At which point Haitia took Christian softly by the hand and led him towards the trees. He was drunk and disoriented and he stumbled along after her. His vision was blurry but instinct told him that this was not the same direction as he had come.  
  
"Where - " he started but she put her finger to her lips.  
  
" I have a special place for you to rest where I think you will be quite at home..." she said softly. Completely helpless he allowed her to lead him deeper into the forest  
  
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hmmmm does this Haitia girl have a hidden agenda? Most likely... wow this is the longest chapter I've ever written. I thought I'd better make up for the last one since it was so short. The plot is thickening now- I finally had some inspiration.  
  
Luv  
  
~*~ Diamonte-saber ~*~ 


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